Vessel
by Alamak
Summary: When a young boy ventures inside of a cave, his life changes forever.
1. The Farm

_"…_ _And what did you encounter in the wooded lands?"_

 _"_ _Today was an interesting day, if I may say so."_

 _"_ _Be quick with it, boy. The scouting report claims you found conflict. Is this true?"_

 _"_ _Yes. In the Hinterlands. A…man…engaged us in battle."_

 _"_ _Oh? What did this man look like? Did he represent a nation or a settlement of people?"_

 _"_ _I-I'm not sure if he was a part of a group, Ser Lahn. I do know that he was naked and old. A bit out of his mind, really."_

 _"_ _Ah, I see. So…tell me then."_

 _"_ _What do you want to know?"_

 _"_ _Everything…"_

Brolin watched the sun dance. It stretched over the mountains like gentle fingers caressing the earth. Rays of an immaculate gold reigned everywhere. Some rested in the valley of the Hinterlands, while others made haste over the hill, finding solace on the patch of dirt that Brolin had called home. He turned back to face his farm, observing the arcs of light as they passed by him and shined onto the animal hut. He could hear the creatures calling out to him—either hungry or in need of comforting. It was never anything else.

Not that it bothered him. It _was_ his job after all. Mother and Father were busy tending to the crops and wood piles, while his older brother was off in the forests of the Hinterlands hunting with his longbow. It usually took them a full day to complete their tasks. But for Brolin, he never had enough to do. Tending to the animals on the farm was a simple and quick ordeal. Once they were fed and comforted, he would return outside and find other ways to occupy his time. Things that fought boredom.

Like _pretend-war_.

 _That_ was Brolin's favorite activity.

Once, he was a warrior—brave and courageous like the Warden. He imagined the Arch-Demon returning to Ferelden, bigger and fiercer than ever before. Its gaping maw devoured men from every land—the far deserts of Orlais, the sprawling city of Kirkwall, ancient groves hidden throughout the Korcari Wilds. Another adventure saw Brolin as a rogue traveller, uncovering treasure across the continent. He pictured dead men stashing their prized possessions under boulders the size of castles and in pools of water beneath epic waterfalls. _Earthmarks_ , he called them—chests made of the earth. Surely, nature was the only safe haven for such things. His mind created every kind of scenario. From the hopeless depths of the Fade to the towering ruins of Ostagar.

Brolin was the conqueror of them all.

It was just him and his wooden sword—a blade of 'mystical' design. Forged from the great Redwoods of the Hinterlands, no enemy could withstand its deafening blow. The Arch-Demon tried once in one of Brolin's scenarios but he swiftly decimated that beast, sending it back into the underground forever. That fight was waged at Brolin's farm—often the last place he had to travel in his journey. Whether he was a rogue or a warrior, a mage or skilled messenger, his home was always the final destination. A realm that housed everything he cared for. His family, the animals, their livelihood in the form of the crops. His entire life was here.

And in truth, so was his death.

Brolin rushed over to a bale of hay and retrieved his wooden sword. His initials were carved into its rounded pommel. He rubbed his fingers over the etching and then he walked to the edge of the hill. From there, he could see the sun as it retreated over the nearest mountain, dragging the light and all of the safety it harbored away from the region. Mother and Father warned Brolin of the danger that followed the night. From primal creatures to heartless bandits, there was always something out there waiting for him. Waiting so that they could inflict their horrors.

 _"_ _There's no reason for you to leave the farm, Brolin. There's nothing out there in the world for people like us…"_

Brolin's eyes scanned the dirt road leading down the hill. He had pictured himself walking its length so many times. A fresh and new adventure always beckoned. It began with the road and ended with the farm. Day in and day out. The beginning and the end. Could his parents have been right? Was there really nothing out there in the wilds? Was 'adventure' simply another imaginary thing? Surely there was more. There _had_ to be.

What of the Warden?

What of the Kings and Queens of the known world?

What of Rivain, the Freemarches and the beastly Qunari?

Were these things not real? Could they have been lies told to him before the darkness swept him away to the Fade each night?

Brolin wanted to believe they were real. Though, a part of him resisted. It was a part that was grounded in reality and its dullness. It anchored him to the farm. To his family. To the animals. To _home_. But how much time was he to waste? He was nearly grown enough to hunt with his older brother, Crelk. Soon, Brolin was going to have to assume that responsibility. Thus Crelk would have to move on to other duties. Like tending to the crops. Perhaps even gathering more wood before winter struck and froze the soil over.

Brolin raised his sights to the sky. Its many wonders filled the expanse—a sea of stars falling into place before him. Held together by the creamy embrace of the sun's afterglow…a settling of light and darkness. An agreement to coexist above the Hinterlands, if only for a few moments. He loved this. All things hung suspended in the balance. It wasn't quite twilight. It was something unnamed. A mystery.

 _What adventure awaits you out there?_

Brolin looked to the farm. His Mother and Father would be back soon—and Crelk a few hours after them. If he left now, he could still make it back before the moon was at its highest point in the sky. His Father would most likely treat him to a few hits of the whipping rope when he returned, but Brolin figured he could explain his absence somehow. Even if he came up empty handed, he would think of something.

 _Now's your chance to venture for real._

He stole a quick glance to his left, then to his right, as if doing so would grant him permission. Or a chance to catch anything out of the ordinary that might spot him while he made his escape. Not like it would have mattered to Brolin. His mind was made up. His fate…now in the hands of his vast imagination. Without paying another thought to the matter, he embarked on his journey into the valley below, his wooden sword raised high.

Soon, nighttime would be upon him.


	2. The Girl

Chapter 2

* * *

Creatures sang hymns of strange rhythms. Croaking and buzzing and whirring along. Brolin joined them, and together they made a mess of a sound. His soft voice ushered forth a stream of nonsense words. At some point, he began naming the animals that scurried past him on the trail.

"Fiz-dweller!" he shouted, as a hairy creature rushed into a thick set of bushes.

"Whoa! Wait up!"

Another harmless animal trotted alongside him.

"Smooth rabbit-pet!" he giggled, pointing to a nug, "Did Mother and Father send you to accompany me on this journey?"

Its answer was silence. In Brolin's head, he imagined that the nug had responded with a clever remark. It was there for the adventure, just like him.

"Come on!" he shouted, "What's a conquest without running through the forests?" Brolin veered off of the dirt path and launched himself into the woods. Most of the foliage was dense—made up of thin trees and wiry bushes. His wooden sword chopped away incessantly at them all. Brolin's mind was working hard to imagine the scene…an army of Orlesian men in place of the trees. They stood silent and tall. A mass of patient killers waiting for him in the midst of the Hinterlands.

"Take _that_!" Brolin screamed as he sliced a branch off of a tree. "You will _not_ invade Ferelden!"

A pack of birds flocked elsewhere, sensing his approach from their isolated perch above. Brolin tracked their departure as they took flight. He pictured it as a victory. As the remaining Orlesian army retreating from battle. He raised his arms high in the air, an act of triumph.

"We have won!" Brolin shouted excitedly, "Victory is ours for the taking!"

His nug companion scurried away, neither caring for nor acknowledging Brolin and his reaction. The young boy watched the tiny creature for a lingering moment, then he continued, his steps guiding him to a clear patch of land. Past the remaining trees and the hordes of bushes was a lone cave. Its entrance—comparable only to an abyss. It reigned over Brolin as he stood entranced, motionless at its berth. He tried to peer into its depths, but he couldn't see too well. The darkness within the cave was greater than the sky…if such a thing could even be possible.

Brolin approached the cave and whistled loudly—his echo twisted and turned away from him.

"I bet the Arch-Demon lives down there…"

The wind howled. Ominous in a way. Appropriate, seeing how it was a dark and unknown cave. Most likely the dwelling place of a beast. Like a bear or other furry monster. After a while, Brolin entered the cave, using his senses to determine what was inside. He stuck his arms out, his fingers moving up and down in an attempt to feel.

"Is anyone there?" he asked.

His own voice bounced endlessly within the cave, circling around him as he stood in the midst of the darkness. The cool breeze from outside was gone, unwelcome within the sanctity of the perpetual blackness. Brolin was unsure of his decision. The cave was an unknown. It was scary and damp and everything in between. At the same time, it was the farthest he had ever gotten in his adventure. He realized that something _great_ could have been waiting further in. It was a poking in his belly. A need somewhere deep within that inspired him to keep walking.

He opened his eyes wider, hoping the interior of the cave would become visible. Eventually, it did. Though what he saw, sitting a few feet away, made him think twice about staying.

"Hello?"

Brolin was staring at a girl. She looked young. Similar to his age, yet, she seemed younger than he was. Her eyes averted his gaze, just the softest blue staring back into his. Brolin examined her features, allowing his question to go unanswered as the silence drifted on. He noticed her clothing—tattered and dirty. Old-looking. Rundown. He felt a string tug at his heart. He felt pity for her…and something else. Her cheeks were smooth, soft golden curls falling beside her face. She motioned to place a lock of hair behind her ear with a hand which barely poked out from its sleeve.

"Hi…" she said quietly.

Brolin took a step toward her. A subconscious act. An attempt at bridging the distance between them.

"My name is Brolin!" he exclaimed, "What's yours?"

His voice boomed all around the cavern, deflecting off of rock walls and a cluster of stalagmites in the corner. The girl seemed to follow the sound, noting its presence. An oddity where none had existed before.

"I don't have one," she replied, "I lost it a long time ago…"

The sadness in her voice was apparent. It took time for Brolin to process the words. To understand what she meant.

"What do you mean? What happened to it?"

Brolin stared at her intently, his attention on the girl entirely. She glanced at the dusty cavern floor and then back to him. Her sullen eyes picked up with the faintest sign of life. Something danced behind them like the sun when it set each evening. Brolin almost pinned it down. He nearly discovered what it was. But then it was gone. Fleeting. Escaping the cave and the Hinterlands and everyplace all at the same time.

"Do you live here?" she asked.

"Yeah…well…sort of. I live on my farm. It's not too far from here! Do you want to go see it?"

His question was like a dagger thrown from behind. Its target, her backside. She shook her head quickly, dismissing his invitation.

"Why not?" Brolin asked, gesturing with his hand, "It's only a short distance from here."

"I can't leave," she said, suddenly, "my…I…just can't."

Brolin raised his brow, "That's not an answer. Come on! It'll be fun."

The girl traced the dirt with her finger and then she motioned for Brolin to draw near.

"I want to show you something," she said.

Brolin rubbed the hilt of his wooden sword and then skipped over to her. His eyes focused on the ground, where it looked like she had drawn a face. Or a house. Or a Darkspawn. It was hard to tell. After guessing at what it could possibly be, he finally gave up and waited for her to speak again.

"I call it…Shroown."

" _Shroown_?" Brolin repeated, confused, "What's that?"

"It's magic," she replied.

"What kind of magic?"

"The old kind." Her words were so cryptic. Her essence drew him in further.

Brolin stared at her. His eyes started at the very top of her head and then slid down to her pale face. Her skin was soft, like nug skin. But it was much nicer. More pure. Better. Cleaner. Brolin felt a funny feeling in the bottom of his stomach when he looked at her. For a moment, she stopped what she was doing and then she glanced over to him—her eyes latching on to his. A moment of silence separated time. Then she smiled. Brolin's heart leapt. It was a flutter where he had never felt it before. A sudden thing.

She giggled—a soft tone—and then she continued to trace her finger in the dust.

"What is that?" Brolin whispered.

"You'll see…"

Brolin waited for something to happen. His mind worked up a grand explanation. The girl…she must have been a princess. A majestic princess trapped in a cave, all alone for hundreds of years. Nobody found her because they couldn't find the cave. But now, _Brolin_ , conqueror and adventurer, was here to save the day. All he had to do was wait for her to draw the magical portal back to her Kingdom and then everything would be fine.

But, soon, Brolin sensed another presence.

It clung to the entrance of the cave like a bird often would in the trees. Lingering. He felt a chill run his spine as his eyes honed in on a figure. It towered over him in height. Brolin's thoughts flashed _danger_.

" _Run!"_ he thought to himself.

Except there was nowhere else he could go. The cave ended. Its blueish-gray wall wrapped around Brolin and the girl as they stood in the ashy dust.

"Who are you?" Brolin asked.

The figure took three steps forward and stopped.

"Don't come any closer or else I'll use my sword! I mean it!" he whipped out his wooden blade and held it up in the air. His sight shifted from the menacing figure to the girl. After a moment of debating with himself, he kicked a bit of dirt over to the girl in order to get her attention. Then, he held his hand out.

"Come on! We have to get out of here."

The girl shook her head, her demeanor shifting back to its dullness again. This time, she seemed shy. Almost embarrassed.

The figure made its way closer. So close that Brolin could hear its breathing. After a bout of silence between the three of them, the figure reached into its cloak and pulled out a thin candle. It lit a match and ignited the wick, casting a small pocket of light around the inner sanctum of the cave. Instantly, Brolin saw that the figure was a _man_. Though, he was not like any man Brolin had ever seen before. Dark streaks ran from the corners of his mouth, where thin lines became jagged as they traveled further down his neck. His lips were pale and so was his skin. A look that spelled 'doom.'

Brolin screamed as soon as he laid eyes upon him, a harsh shrill penetrating the air. The man hissed, extinguishing the flame before rushing over. Brolin leapt from his place, kicking dirt as he searched for an exit. His eyes flung wildly from side to side—his imagination devolving into nothingness as instinct started to take over.

"Stay away!" Brolin yelled, "Stay away, stay away stay _away_!"

His cries were heard by no one but the girl and the terrifying man. Brolin knew that help was not going to come. He had to take matters into his own hands. Swiftly, he gripped his sword and swung—coming within inches of the man's chest. The sound of wood nipping cloth rang the air, followed by the man's deep voice.

"Silence, child!" he beckoned, "Be _still_ or your life will be mine!"

It was like a nightmare come true. The fear overpowered Brolin's will. Gone was the triumph he had seen earlier over the Orlesian army in the woods, or the quiet victory he had achieved when he left the farm. There was no adventure. No greater mystery beyond the mountains. Here…there was only darkness and the night's many horrors. He squirmed under the weight of the man—as his muscled arms wrapped around Brolin's tiny frame. He felt the air leaving his lungs.

"P-please…" Brolin's head cocked sideways, his eyes buried into the void of the man's cloak. Nothing could be seen. There was no light, he realized. None at all. It didn't wait for him as the life slipped from his insides. Nor did it come to rescue him from the danger. He was alone. Trapped in a cave where no one was going to find him. Nobody at all.

It was the last thought he had before the abyss swallowed him whole.


	3. Isolation

A tapping sound wrenched Brolin awake. He coughed until his chest hurt—a dry sound escaping his cracked lips. He rubbed his throat with his dirty hands and then he began to cry. His sobs became uncontrollable, a fit of breathing and grunting and whimpering. He sat for a few minutes until his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

He felt around for his sword but it was gone. So was his overcoat, a hand-me-down passed to him by his brother Crelk. His patterned shoes were also torn apart, laying on the floor next to him. Idle and abused like Brolin.

It was a terror he wouldn't even wish upon his enemies in pretend-war. This was a fate far worse than death. Even _that_ led to somewhere a bit brighter and less frightening. He wished for a sudden rapture, or a portal, or some kind of divine intervention on behalf of the Maker and his holy army. He wanted to be swept up in fire and lightning and whatever else existed. As long as it carried him away from…a cage. Brolin tread over to the end of a cell—its iron bars stopped him from venturing further.

"Hello...?" he croaked, his voice fading.

The silence screamed back at him. Like a beast in the wild, pierced by an arrow in the leg. Brolin adjusted himself by lowering his body into a seated position. He sat and stared. His eyes taking in a mixture of blacks, blues and dust. It meant nothing to him. Just more boredom. A whole lot of nothing.

"Why am I in here?" he asked, to no one in particular.

He had hoped that the girl would be there. Maybe even the _man_ , as much as he never wanted to see him again. At this point, _someone_ ' _s_ presence would have been better than nothing. Brolin saw no reason for any of this; why he was locked up, why the man attacked him…why the girl just shrugged it all off as if it was nothing. Above all, Brolin felt hurt. 'Betrayed' was probably the word he was searching for—but it was buried so deep that even if he did look, he would lose himself. The truth was difficult.

He attempted to hear what was going on elsewhere in the cave, except his ears caught nothing but the faint dripping of water to his left, outside of the cage. It was useless. And rather than focus on his current situation which seemed incredibly out of his control—he decided to lay down and sleep. It wasn't a perfect idea.

But at least he would still be able to dream.


	4. Awake

"Wake up!"

A hushed whisper filled Brolin's ears. It was startling—his body twitched violently for the briefest moment. Then, he settled himself, choosing to sit at the far end of the cage—back pressed up against the cool rock wall of the cave. Eyes trained forward on a soft and expressionless face.

It was the girl.

Her blue-ocean-sea eyes stared back at Brolin. His heart fluttered again like it did before. She must have seen it. The way it beat a little bit faster. The way it made Brolin feel woozy in his head. She smiled and pressed her face in between the iron bars, hands gripping them tight.

"What are you doing here?" Brolin asked, worried that she might be found by the terrible man.

"I came to see you."

Brolin was confused. If she was outside of the cage but still _here_ , then how was she okay? Did the man leave? Did Brolin actually defeat him before the black sucked him in?

"Why?"

She giggled, her face moving slightly between the bars, soft curls bouncing. Eyes focused on his. A flame dancing in anticipation of what came next.

"Because you're my friend," she said softly, "Don't you want to be?"

Brolin went to speak, but then he heard something shift beyond her. It happened so fast, then it was gone. A shuffling of movement. It could have been someone. Or some _thing_.

"Yes," Brolin answered, his gaze focusing back on her, "I want to be your friend."

She beamed with a brightness Brolin hadn't ever seen before. Her smile, her presence—the way her eyes opened expectantly. Brolin wanted to fill them up with a warmth greater than the sun. He wanted to hold on to this moment forever. She was infectious. Moving Brolin in a way that made him feel good about himself.

The girl turned away from Brolin and his cage, her face and eyes and brilliant hair still grappling to him. It was like she wanted him to follow her to the ends of the earth but then remembered it was impossible. A tragedy in the shape of a great big question mark.

"What happens now?" Brolin wondered aloud, hands moving to grab the iron bars. She pushed back, just enough for Brolin to smell her scent as the draft picked up. She smelled like flowers. Like lilies or something beautiful.

Her face twitched in a way that felt so right, her expression mimicking a playfulness that the animals back on the farm would show. A familiarity was there. Brolin had asked her what she was doing.

"What?" she replied, "You've never played before?"

"Played? What do you mean?"

"A game…" she cooed, touching her cheeks with both hands.

"I really like games!" Brolin exclaimed weakly, "It's my favorite thing to do on the farm. Like _pretend-war_!"

"What's that?"

"Oh…" Brolin thought about how he could explain it to her. "It's kind of like Shroown!"

The girl nodded her head and locked eyes with Brolin, "Can you teach me how to play?"

"Sure," Brolin said, running his hands along the iron bars, "Except I'm kind of stuck in here. Can you see if there's a key?"

The girl backed away from Brolin and his cage—her eyes moving with grace and speed, darting away from his direction and onto the cavern floor. She bent over, her hands sweeping through the soot at strange angles and odd rhythms. If this was being compared to a dance, then it was a dance Brolin had never even see. He wanted to question her but at the same time he figured that being quiet was best. It looked like she was focused. There was an intensity imbued with her movements. Something was driving her to search.

Could she have liked him?

The thought did cross Brolin's mind, that maybe she felt that same soft, gooey feeling that Brolin felt in the middle of his body. It elevated him, to a place that only accepted happiness. He grinned, silently basking in the sentiment as the girl continued. Her feet soon kicked up enough dust in the air to start a sandstorm.

"I can't…!" she huffed and puffed, clearly frustrated at her lack of results. Brolin nodded and covered his mouth with his undershirt.

"It's okay," he said in a muffled tone, "We'll find another way."

"How?" The girl ignored the dusty air and walked closer to the cage, "How are you ever going to get out of there without a key?"


End file.
